" "Bring your story to an end, Sir," said Trenchard who had listened to the recital with mingled emotions of rage and fear. Teenage boys never change, she thought to herself. The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber. " "What ho! Blueskin!" shouted Jack. “I’m d——d if I understand this,” he said thoughtfully. Perhaps she did love research for its own sake, she was certainly gifted enough. But whatever she may have said was lost as Gerald pinned her to the wall, the point of the sword at her throat.
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